


Quarter-Birthdays

by writing_in_the_dark



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Americest, Canada Day, Comedy, Incest, Independence Day (US), M/M, My version of fluff, Reversible Couple, Sibling Incest, not really incest because Hetalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:16:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_in_the_dark/pseuds/writing_in_the_dark
Summary: Canada doesn’t want to do it again, but America gives him 150 ¾ reasons why they should.





	Quarter-Birthdays

It’s April 1st, and Canada stands in the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch. A hand creeps around from behind him and slips down the front of his pants. “Eep!” he squeaks in surprise, “What are you doing?!”

America’s lips brush against Canada’s ear, whispering sensually, “What does it _feel_ like I’m doing?” America starts to stroke, and Canada’s breath hitches. Without stopping his stroking, America takes a couple of steps around Canada, so they are facing each other. He tries to make bedroom eyes at his brother, but his glasses slip down his nose, and he has to reach up with his free hand, to push them back up again, before resuming his bedroom-eyes look.

“B-But…,” Canada begins to protest, but is tripped up by the stimulation of the hand stroking him and ends up moaning instead of finishing his sentence. “ _Hnn_.”

“But _what_?” America teases, chuckling.

Canada pushes himself out of America’s reach and catches his breath. “But we’ve already done it four times in the past 24 hours!”

“Four?” America says, crinkling his nose at Canada’s apparent inability to count, “I think you mean three.”

“No, I mean _four_!” Canada counts off on his fingers as he lists them, “In the shower and on the bed yesterday, and in the kitchen and on the couch today.”

_“No,”_ America corrects him, “The kitchen and couch today only counts as one time. Remember, I carried you from the kitchen countertop to the couch. At no point did I slip out of--”

“Ok! Ok!” Canada yells, holding his hands up and interrupting his brother before he goes into any more explicit detail, “You’re right. It was three times.” Canada sighs. “But isn’t that enough?”

“No!” America explains, “You see, the first time yesterday was because I was so happy to be visiting you; that was ‘I’ve missed you’ sex. The second time yesterday was ‘I love you’ sex. The first time today was ‘I’m so happy I got to spend the night with you’ sex.”

Canada waits for America to explain what he intends to have today’s second round of sex commemorate, but he doesn’t, so he sighs and begrudgingly plays along, asking in a monotone voice, “So, what kind of sex are you wanting to have now?”

America rolls his eyes and says, “Um, duh! This is going to be ‘three-quarters-birthday’ sex!”

“Three…” Canada can’t even finish echoing the words, he finds the notion so ridiculous. He pinches his fingers over the bridge of his nose, like his brother is giving him a headache, which is in fact exactly what’s happening. “Seriously, America? That’s not even a thing!”

“Canada, Canada, Canada,” America says, in his signature patronizing tone, “Quarter-birthdays are _totally_ a thing.”

“But, you know that I existed before July 1, 1867, right? You know that you aren’t actually 91 years older than I am, right?” Canada argues, in an exasperated tone.

“Well, then, when _is_ your three-quarters-birthday, smarty-pants?” America puts his hands on his hips, confident he has triumphed in this battle.

Canada hangs his head, conceding defeat. “But I’m tired,” he whines. He takes down his speaking volume, even though there’s no one else around to hear his next words, “And I’m sore, you know, _down there_.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s totally fine. I was actually going to say it’s your turn anyway.” America turns around and sticks out his butt, wiggling his rear end and slapping his own jeans-clad cheeks with his hands. “Come on. You know you want some of this,” he says, with exaggerated flirtation, looking over his shoulder at the three-quarters-birthday boy.

Canada squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out the image of his brother shaking his ass in the least sexy way he’s ever seen an ass shake. His eyes spring back open wide when the aforementioned ass starts grinding against his crotch. It’s more arousing than he’d like to admit, and he is only able to articulate a single word, which comes out in a low growl. “Bed.”

Dejectedly, America stops grinding and says, with a pout, “Ugh, fine,” as if he wasn’t expecting Canada to do anything other than tell him to stop. When he realizes that’s not what happened, he gets confused and says, “Wait…what?”

Before America can speak further, Canada is dragging him by the wrist to his bedroom, where they have sex for the fourth (or fifth, depending on who you ask) time in 24 hours.

Lying under the covers, arms wrapped around each other, Canada says, “That was really good, but I’m exhausted. By your own logic, I’m a-hundred-and-fifty-and-three-quarters years old. You have to let me have a break.”

“Of course,” America says sweetly, snuggling up even closer to his brother, “You can have the next two days off.”

Canada eyes go wide when he realizes why he only gets two days to rest instead of the couple of months he’d been hoping for.

America starts doing a little dance in bed. “Aww, yeah, baby! That’s right! April 4th! Happy two-hundred-and-forty-one-and-three-quarters birthday to me!”

Canada sighs and mumbles to himself, “Oh, fuck me.”

America kisses him on the lips and says, “You know I will!”


End file.
